William
by TheScaryLittleGhostGirl
Summary: A slip of the tongue from Mycroft leads to John discovery something he didn't know about his best friend. I was bored. No slash but feel free to squint.


**AN: I need to point out that Sherlock Holmes' real name is actually William, that really is his real genuine name, I promise, so in no way am I twisting or changing the story, also there has been speculation that Sherrinford did indeed exist but I'm not 100% sure that he did but I decided to put him in the story anyway. Just felt that I needed to mention that. This is just a small one-shot which I wrote because I was bored. No slash but feel free to squint. **

**William **

Sherlock was playing his violin again. Well playing wasn't exactly the best way to describe what he was doing to the poor instrument, abusing it would be a more accurate term. What had the poor violin ever done to him, John often wondered. Every note sounded like a drawn out tortured scream, like it was yelling to John to save it from the wrath of the world's only Consulting Detective. Sherlock wasn't the best violin player in the world, only when he was really thinking very hard did the violin actually produce a proper melody. John had practically become immune to the sound of the violin, it didn't bother him at all really, he was just so used to it that he barely even noticed it anymore, in fact he noticed it more when it wasn't being played.

Sherlock's phone lit up and bleeped, Sherlock ignored it.

"Aren't you going to get that?" John couldn't help but ask. He didn't know why but he always got a funny thing with texts, he didn't like leaving texts unread.

Sherlock shook his head and continued 'playing'.

"I'll get it then, shall I?" Sherlock didn't seem at all phased by John reading his texts, he did it enough times anyway, and it wasn't exactly like he didn't read John's texts, and e-mails, and his letters, and listening in on his phone calls, the list went on.

_On my way to Baker Street - MH _

MH? Oh right Mycroft.

"Mycroft's visiting." John told his flatmate.

This time Sherlock did stop 'playing' the instrument "Why?" he demanded, turning to face John.

John shrugged "I don't know."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and flung himself down into his chair, his long limbs draping down.

"Mycroft's not that bad you know Sherlock."

"Yes he is." Sherlock drummed the tips of his fingers against the arms of his chair in obvious annoyance "He's an idiot."

They sat in awkward silence. John knew Sherlock was counting the seconds, that was just such a Sherlock-y thing to do. He heard a car pull up outside and seconds later the doorbell rang, Sherlock remained sitting solidly in his chair, the tips of his fingers pressed together resting underneath his chin, gazing resolutely anywhere but the door to the flat.

"Do I have to let your brother in then?" John asked, receiving one quick glance from Sherlock that clearly told him that that was probably the only way Mycroft was going to enter the flat. John rolled his eyes and stood up, making his way down the stairs to the front door of 221b.

It was raining heavily outside, and he was greeted at the door by a rather wet and unhappy looking Mycroft "Hello John." the older Holmes' brother brushed past him through the doorway and into the dry hallway "Sherlock not wanting to answer the door?"

John nodded.

"Ah." Mycroft sighed "He always was stubborn." he turned and made his way up the stairs and into the flat.

"What do you want Mycroft?" John heard Sherlock say as he and Mycroft entered the flat.

"Family business, dear brother."

"Who wants what now?" Sherlock asked, running his long fingers through his curls.

"It's Sherrinford."

All the annoyance seemed to fade from Sherlock's face "What does Sherrinford want?" he asked.

"He wants to have dinner?"

"Sherrinford wants to have dinner? With me?" Sherlock asked, apparently in complete and utter disbelief "Why?"

Mycroft shrugged "I don't know. Well, will you come?"

Sherlock's brow furrowed in mock concentration "No."

"Why?" Mycroft demanded.

"I'm sorry." John interrupted, both pairs of Holmes' eyes turned to stare at him "Who's Sherrinford?"

"Brother." Sherlock explained "Our brother." he indicated Mycroft.

That was a bit of a shock to John. He'd never really thought of Sherlock as having any other family members other than Mycroft, he knew they had a mother or had once had a mother, but he'd never have thought that Sherlock had another brother besides Mycroft. But apparently he did, Sherrinford.

"Why not?" Mycroft demanded a second time.

"I don't want to." Sherlock said, reminding John of a rather stubborn child.

"William!"

Shock filled Sherlock's face "Mycroft!" he yelled at his brother, almost sounding angry.

Mycroft seemed to realise he'd said something wrong "Oh…sorry Sherlock. Well, please just think about it?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes "Fine, I will think about it. Now please leave."

"Very well." Mycroft turned and within seconds the door to the flat had been closed behind him.

"Who's William?" John asked as soon as he knew Mycroft wouldn't be able to hear him.

Sherlock glanced at him looking concerned, he seemed to be seriously contemplating whether he should tell John, he seemed to decide he would "Me." he answered.

John stared "You're Sherlock." he pointed out, confused now.

"No John, last time I checked I was William."

"What are you talking about?"

Sherlock sighed, reminding John of a patent parent trying to teach a toddler that one plus one made two "William is the name my parents gave me John, it's my Christian name." John still must look confused because he added "Did you never get called Hamish instead of John?"

"No, no I didn't."

He chuckled "Well, I prefer my middle name, which is obviously Sherlock, to my first name, which is William." he explained "So that's the one I use."

"Isn't that like a Victorian thing?" John asked.

Sherlock - William - nodded "Well people did used to do it then, more than they do now in any case."

"William Holmes." John tried the name out, he liked the way it rolled smoothly of his tongue, so he said it again a couple of times.

"John, please don't start calling me William, I much prefer Sherlock." Sherlock -William - added.

"Why?" John asked "William Holmes." he said, testing the name out again "It's a good name. William Holmes."

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes, to be exact." the detective corrected him.

"William Holmes."

"John, could you please stop saying it!" Sherlock snapped.

"What's wrong with it though?"

"It's to common." true William was quite a common name "And anyway, think about it John. Sherlock Holmes, world's only consulting detective. William Holmes, world's only consulting detective. Come on, which one sounds better?"

"The first one." John had to admit.

"Exactly."

"You never told me about this, or that you have another brother that's not Mycroft."

Sherlock/William shrugged "It never came up, and anyway I don't really want people to start calling me William, if some of the inspectors at the yard found out they wouldn't leave me alone about it."

"About what? The fact that really you have quite a normal name?"

The detective smirked "So you're not angry with me then?"

"Oh come on William, why would I be angry?"

"Don't call me William!" he obviously meant it but he smiled "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For just being you."

John chuckled "You're welcome."

"Dinner?"

"I like the idea of that."

"Angelo's?"

"After you, William."

"DON'T CALL ME WILLIAM!"


End file.
